


Pressure Points

by embroiderama



Series: Pressure [1]
Category: White Collar RPF
Genre: Angst, Exhaustion, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's tired and distant, and Tim just wants to hold him close. Also, Tim has great hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure Points

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** May challenge, which is all about rare fandoms, and the prompt I used was "minor illness." A headache is a minor illness, right?

Tim liked Matt's smile. He liked Neal Caffrey's smiles too, but mostly for the core of Matt's smile that usually made Neal's smiles so convincing. Even at the end of a long, hard day, Matt would give Tim a sweet, tired smile, the kind of smile that made him want to taste it with his own lips. And sometimes he did.

Tim barely saw Matt over the hiatus, both of them busy with family and side-projects and all the other obligations of their business, but as soon as they got back on set they slid back into their groove. Every year, Tim came back to set thinking that it wasn't going to happen again, that Matt would decide to keep him at a distance, that he wouldn't again get to experience the sweet comfort of Matt in his arms.

And sometimes in his mouth.

They didn't fuck, but they were both tactile men, they both liked to hold and be held and to get off by means other than their own hands. The fact that they cared about each other meant that what they had together was both a substitute and a real thing. They weren't in love, but they loved each other and their bodies gravitated together like magnets; it worked. So Tim had come back to set half-worried that they wouldn't find that closeness again, but the first day of filming on location started off freezing cold and within an hour of getting to set Tim had Matt in his arms, his hands slipped inside Matt's puffy coat to rub warmth into him.

Since then everything between them had been good--hugs and jokes on set, kisses and handjobs in private. Two months into filming, they were in the groove of being Peter and Neal, and the last thing they had to worry about was freezing cold mornings, but not everything was perfect. Matt was splitting himself between two projects, and if he knew how to do a half-ass job Tim had never seen it. Matt was giving his all to both _White Collar_ and _The Normal Heart_ , running on just barely enough sleep and just barely enough food, and he was okay, he was managing it but Tim could see the effort it took.

Tim hadn't even spent the night with Matt in a few weeks, and he missed having Matt in his bed, missed the comfort, hated going to bed alone and vaguely worried. They didn't usually go so long, but Matt was circling his wagons, conserving his emotional energy, and Tim understood that but he wasn't sure that Matt was doing himself any favors. As the days went by, Matt looked tenser all the time, his wiry body drawn up tight rather than loose and flexible, and his smiles were hollowing out, the sweet, honest core of them draining away.

When Tim arrived on set to see Matt looking like he'd barely slept, that cranked up his worry to the point where he was paying more attention to Matt on set. Not just watching him act or watching his ass in Neal's tailored suits but also keeping an eye on all of his little interactions, and it wasn't good. Normally gracious and patient, Matt was borderline snappish with a few crew members, and he had no patience for anybody, including himself. Neal's smiles became patently false, and Tim caught Matt rubbing the back of his neck when he thought nobody was watching.

When lunch break came, Matt headed to his trailer for one of his protein-vegetable shake horrors and Tim followed rather than hitting up the craft services truck for some real food. He didn't ask permission, and Matt didn't hold the door open for him, but he didn't lock Tim out, which felt like all the acceptance he was going to get. When he pushed open the trailer door, Matt was already sitting at the small table, his elbows on the tabletop and his head in his hands, Neal's suit jacket discarded on the couch. Tim clicked the lock shut behind him and walked over to sit in the empty chair next to Matt's.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Ugh," Matt said, rubbing at his temples with the heels of his hands. "Headache. I've had it since last night, and it won't go away."

"You want to go see a doctor?"

Matt shook his head and winced. "Not that bad, it's just getting old."

 _It's wearing you down, and it's not the only thing._ Tim put his hand on Matt's shoulder and felt the muscles there, bunched up tight, hard as bone. Matt sighed and softened just a little bit against Tim's hand, and Tim couldn't stand to watch his pained face any longer. "You mind if I try something?"

"Please," Matt said, leaning more heavily on his hands.

Tim stood and, moving slowly, reached around Matt to undo Neal's tie then unbuttoned his shirt and worked it down away from Matt's shoulders as much as possible without moving him around too much. Tim put his hands on Matt's shoulders and felt the tension in the tendons leading up to his neck and head--it was no wonder he had a headache. Tim knew he could walk away, call in a professional to work out Matt's knots, but he'd learned how to give a decent backrub back in drama school, and he liked doing it. He liked being able to touch somebody he cared about and make them feel better; it was a delicate kind of power.

Starting as lightly as he could, Tim started to massage Matt's upper back and shoulders. He could feel the layers of muscle and tendon over the broad frame of Matt's shoulders, and Matt wasn't just tight, he was actively holding himself tense even as he sat there with his head in his hands. "Matty," Tim murmured, "try to relax, try to let it all go for a little while."

"I can't," he said, his voice rough.

"Aw, Matty. Yes you can. You trust me, right?"

Matt nodded, and Tim felt him relax just a fraction under his hands.

"Then trust me to handle things for a few minutes, okay?"

Matt sighed and nodded, and this time when Tim started to rub his back again the tension in Matt's body began to give way to the gentle pressure of Tim's hands. When Matt's upper back felt warm and loose, Tim slid his thumbs up to the tendons on the sides of Matt's neck. He could feel the tension and the pain there, but he paused when Matt took an unsteady breath. "Is it too much?"

"No," Matt whispered, and Tim pet his hands lightly over Matt's shoulders before going back to work on his neck and then the base of his skull. He took the weight of Matt's head in his hands and gently guided him to sit up, then worked his hands into Matt's hair. The crisp feel of hairspray gave way to the natural softness, and as he used his fingertips to massage Matt's scalp he didn't know which of them was enjoying it more. Matt let his head tilt back against Tim's chest, and Tim worked his thumbs over Matt's forehead and temples, the strong line of his brow.

The makeup and hair people were going to have some work to redo, but Tim couldn't bring himself to feel bad about that when Matt was humming in satisfaction. He still looked tired, but the pain was gone from his face, leaving the trace of a smile in its place. Tim let his hand rest on Matt's chest and stood there for a moment in the relative quiet and stillness.

"How are you feeling?"

"Hmmbetter," Matt mumbled.

"You hungry?"

Matt sighed and nodded, so Tim reluctantly let go of him and went over to get one of Matt's shakes from the mini-fridge. As he put the shake down on the table, Tim realized that he was starving too, so he went out and got his own lunch then returned to Matt's trailer. He didn't have much time to eat before he needed to be back on set, but the sweet smile Matt gave him was worth it.

Tim ate his sandwich, and Matt finished his shake then snacked on some almonds. Tim could see him gathering himself up to go back to work, and he put his hand on Matt's arm. "Hey. I know this is hard right now, but you don't have to make it harder for yourself by shutting me out. I want to help you. A lot of people want to help you."

Matt looked down. "I'm afraid if I relax too much I won't be able to get back up and do it tomorrow."

"You don't have to worry about that. You said you trust me--come to my place tonight."

Matt smiled at the suggestion but then shook his head. "I have to head to midtown when we're done here."

"So come afterward. You haven't forgotten where I live, have you?"

Matt rolled his eyes, but a knock at the door and the voice of one of the PAs interrupted them before he could reply. Tim got up and threw away his trash then caught up with Matt on his way to the door. "You'll come?"

"It might be late, but I'll text you when I'm on my way." Matt opened the trailer door then turned back and brushed his fingers against Tim's. "Thank you."

After that it was makeup and hair and back to work. Matt left the set first, but Tim still had hours at home to eat and shower, to relax and talk to his family and read over the next day's script pages before his phone buzzed with Matt's text.

_In the car see you soon_

If Matt wasn't bothering to punctuate, Tim figured he had to be exhausted, and when Tim opened his door half an hour later he knew he was right. It was a good thing, he thought, that he hadn't pinned his hopes on anything more athletic than cuddling because Matt barely looked like he'd make it through a shower, much less a blow job. Tim wrapped his arm around Matt's back and tugged him inside.

"Jesus," he said, "you look like you're about to pass out."

Matt hummed in agreement then shook his head. "I'm just tired. Should've gone back to my place, 'cause I'm not gonna be any fun tonight."

"I don't need fun." Tim guided Matt toward the bedroom, turning off lights as he went. "I just want you here."

Matt gave Tim a wavery smile, and he didn't argue when Tim sat him down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his clothes, peeling the fabric from his lax limbs. Tim undressed himself far more easily and climbed into bed, pulling Matt down to curl up in his arms.

"M'sorry," Matt said, his words muffled by impending sleep.

"Shhh. I just want you here."

Matt nodded, his hair brushing Tim's face, then dropped down into sleep. Tim wasn't sure how long he stayed awake before the comfortable coolness of his bedroom and the comforting weight of Matt breathing deep and even in his arms pulled him down into sleep too.


End file.
